Chapter 8
Dinner had been fun and relaxed. Knox’s friends and family loved Quinn immediately and by the end of the night she was in a text group with several of them, including Bette and Kate who had adopted her.
Knox counted it as a win that Quinn didn’t fight him over taking her home.
Nor did she tell him to stay in the car when they got to her townhouse.
He’d opened the car door for her and walked her to the steps where he waited for her to unlock her front door.
Then he’d done exactly what he’d told her he would.
He asked her to dinner and felt like he’d won the national championship when she agreed.
Then he had leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek and said goodnight.
The next morning, Knox was lying in bed thinking about his date night when his phone rang. It had been buzzing nonstop with bets being placed on him at the Blossom Café but he didn’t care. Bet all they want, especially if they were betting on Quinn and him having a relationship.
However, when the phone rang with the ringtone of his brother’s number one country hit, he answered it. “Holt! Hey, how was the honeymoon?”
“It was wonderful, but we need to talk about something serious. You took a girl to the after-game dinner? What? Who? How? And please tell me she isn’t a jersey chaser.” Holt shot question after question off at rapid fire.
“Not a jersey chaser,” Quinn snapped. He never wanted anyone to think that about Quinn. “She was my tutor in college.”
“Holy smokes, the one you had the huge crush on? The one from the children’s hospital?
No wonder the betting app is going nuts.
But, bro, the after-game dinner? You two are that serious already?
” Holt knew how exclusive that dinner was.
It was immediate friends and family only.
No outsiders. It was a chance for everyone to relax after a game and not have to worry about anything ending up in the news.
“She doesn’t know we’re that serious, but I’m that serious.
Quinn’s the one who got away. I won’t let that happen again.
We’re having our first real date tonight.
” Knox was excited to tell someone. Holt especially knew how hard it was to date when they reached their level of fame.
Most first dates were filled with hesitation and distrust. This one was different.
This was hope for all the things he didn’t dare dream about—love, marriage, family. With Quinn it was all right there.
“Ah, so fancy restaurant, maybe a private jet to the opera or something?” Holt asked.
“Not her style. I know exactly what to do.” Knox hoped he was right, because he wanted Quinn to feel cherished and seen the way he saw her.
“Then I’ll be placing my bet sooner rather than later. Good luck and let me know if you need your more famous brother to swoop in and serenade her for the night if your date bombs.”
Knox laughed and asked about his new sister-in-law before getting ready for practice and laying out his master plan for tonight.
Quinn sat next to Nico in the conference room and showed him the betting summary from the game along with her analytics.
“See, nothing! Yet, we had thirteen incidents,” Quinn said, pointing out the moments where the tickets were sold and then attempted to be redeemed. “Nothing reads wrong in the coding.”
Nico leaned forward to scroll through the report and shook his head. “I’m the business guy, not the computer guy. You need to call Sebastian and bring your old team in to fix this before . . .”
“Sorry to interrupt.” Juniper looked freaked out as she poked her head into the room. Her eyes were wide and her hand was shaking slightly. “But there are people here from the Kentucky Horse Racing and Gaming Commission.”
Quinn’s heart literally dropped and her stomach rolled to the point that she had to swallow or risk throwing up.
“Show them in,” Nico said calmly as he stood and buttoned his suit jacket.
Quinn stood too, but she wasn’t calm. Her hands were sweating and her knees were shaking.
The agents walked in. One was tall and thin and looked to be in his mid-fifties.
The other was thirtyish, shorter, with a dad bod.
Neither looked particularly friendly. They wore plain suits, their hair was cut short, and they both wore matching frowns.
“Nico Saccone and Quinn Kennedy?” the tall one asked, still frowning.
“And you are?” Nico asked without a hint of nerves in his voice.
“Mark Briscoe and my partner Brenton Corker. We’re with the Kentucky Horse Racing and Gaming Commission. There have been complaints about the betting lounge that you own, Mr. Saccone, and in which Miss Kennedy handles the betting program,” Mr. Briscoe told them.
Quinn had never, ever been in trouble with the law. She’d never even gotten a parking ticket. Now she was looking at something that might cost her the job she loved.
“What is the basis of the complaints?” Nico asked as he continued to stand. He hadn’t offered anyone a seat, so Quinn remained standing.
“Illegal manipulation of your betting system so that you don’t have to pay out to big winners,” Mr. Corker answered, still frowning. “We’d like to speak to you both about the investigation we’ve opened into these complaints.”
“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but we won’t be speaking to anyone about these allegations without our lawyer present.
And she’s currently in South Carolina. So if you gentlemen would like to make an appointment for later this week, we’ll make ourselves available.
” Nico moved to the door as if the discussion was over.
“No. We’re going to talk now.” Mr. Briscoe stood unmoving and Quinn saw Nico’s jaw tighten.
“However, you’re free to call an attorney who can arrive in the next couple of hours.
We’re not the agency that arrests people.
We are the agency that revokes your gaming license and then turns the evidence over to the proper authorities who can arrest you. ”
“I’m well acquainted with the purview of your agency. However, I also know I’m allowed an attorney when an investigation has been opened. Mrs. Townsend-Fox is available at the end of this week.”
Briscoe stared him down before pulling out one of the chairs and taking a seat. “I’ll wait. And while I do, I will be making some statements about this investigation to certain people who like to be kept in the know.”
Quinn gulped. Nico’s jaw clenched so tightly, she worried that his teeth might crack. “Are you threatening me? Or Miss Kennedy?”
“Did I say that? I need something to do while we wait for your attorney.”
Quinn looked at Mr. Corker who was glancing between his partner and Nico. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but a quick glare from Briscoe stopped Corker from saying anything.
“Excuse us for just a moment, gentlemen,” Nico said, holding out his arm to indicate that Quinn should lead the way from the room. “I’ll have Juniper bring you something to drink.”
Quinn hurried from the room as Nico was pulling out his phone. “Juniper, take them something to drink and then sit in the room with them. We won’t be long.”
“I don’t have an attorney,” Quinn blurted after Juniper rushed off down the hall.
“Let me make some calls.”
Quinn watched Nico disappear into his office. Quinn stood looking through the glass windows of the conference room at the two agents who were talking to each other. Corker was the good cop. Briscoe was the bad. That much was easy to tell.
“We have thirty minutes before our counsel gets here,” Nico told her as he strode back out of his office. They watched Juniper rush in with drinks and then take a seat with the investigators.
“What do we do? This is all my fault because I can’t figure out what’s going on with our system. Will I really be arrested for this? Will you really lose your license?”
“Any chance of you fixing the system in the next thirty minutes?” Nico asked.
Quinn bit her bottom lip so hard it almost bled. She shook her head as she watched everything in her life blow up in front of her.
Thirty minutes passed as Nico was on the phone with his attorney in South Carolina.
Quinn sat in silence on the edge of Juniper’s desk trying to remember how to breathe.
She’d like to think she was this badass boss bitch, but she wasn’t.
She was smart, yes, but she was an introvert who loved books and geeking out.
Telling people off or standing up for herself were not things she ever did.
She’d gotten her job by working harder than her old team.
She didn’t tear them down or even defend herself when they would make jokes about women in computer science.
Instead, she doubled down on her work to make sure none of the things they teased women about were true with her.
She thought it would make them respect her. She’d been wrong.
The elevator doors opened and a man and woman stepped from it. Quinn blinked at the shiny, dark blue suit with . . . fake pearls on his cufflinks? The woman was completely put together and looked like a lawyer from a Hollywood movie.
The man looked at her, smiled, and let out a low whistle. “Do you know what football and lawyers have in common?” he asked her. Quinn just shook her head. All the visual input from this man was not computing in her mind. “We both have good D.”
Quinn’s mouth fell open and all she could do was stare. “And that look tells me she’s my client. Hello, Miss Kennedy. I’m Neely Grace Rooney.” The woman held out her hand and Quinn automatically shook it.
Henry turned and was about to say something to Nico who barely shook his head so Henry snapped his mouth closed again.
Then he smiled and winked at Nico. Quinn had never seen Nico discomposed until this moment.
It wasn’t much, but she saw an infinitesimal pause as he offered his hand to the man in the shiny suit.
“Then you’re all mine, tiger. Henry Rooney at your service.”